Cameron 7: The Finale

Home > Other > Cameron 7: The Finale > Page 12
Cameron 7: The Finale Page 12

by Jade Jones


  “Why are they here, Jude? What the fuck is going on?!” Cam asked, panicking.

  Jude didn’t have time to answer. Instead, he bolted out of the bedroom so fast that he almost tripped in the process. Cameron shoved her phone in her pocket and followed him. Together they descended the stairs.

  Jude was on his way to grab the kids when a shotgun shell breached the front door. Cameron screamed when it flew open and a herd of police rushed inside.

  They grabbed Jude first, slamming him on the floor hard enough to bust his mouth open. Rushing to his owner’s rescue, Buddy ran over and sunk his teeth into the cop’s arm.

  “Buddy, no!”

  “GET DOWN! GET ON THE GROUND!”

  Cameron was ruthlessly thrown to the floor and handcuffed.

  POP!

  Oooowrooo!

  Buddy yelped and landed with a soft thud. A single bullet to the head immediately stopped his antics. His furry leg twitched in his final seconds before death.

  Jude and Journee screamed at the top of their tiny lungs. They were having a peaceful family moment before the police came and fucked everything up.

  “MY FUCKING DOG! YOU SHOT MY MOTHAFUCKIN’ DOG! You have no fucking right to do that! You have no fucking right, man!” Jude hollered. The angrier he became the more forceful they became in their restraint.

  “JUDE!”

  Officers grabbed the screaming children to give to CPS. That’s when Cam lost it and tried to go after them. She was grabbed and roughly slammed again by two cops. Her head hit the floor so hard she felt her brain rattle in her skull.

  “Don’t you fucking touch them! Get your fucking hands off my kids! Don’t you—Ahhhh! AHHHHH!” she cried out in pain when an officer put pressure on her shoulder. It was the same place Alessia had shot her not too long ago.

  “Get the fuck off her! All that shit ain’t fuckin’ necessary, yo! She didn’t do shit! Let her fuckin’ go! IT WAS ME! It was all me!” Jude shouted with a bloody mouth. He would die before he let Cameron go down with him.

  Unfortunately, the cops were unimpressed by his public display of humility. All they cared about was serving justice. Jude wanted to believe his past demons were catching up with him, but he had a feeling that wasn’t the case. There was no doubt in his mind that someone had been talking to the police.

  23

  “We gotta stop fuckin’ around,” Magyc said as he pulled his Balmain jeans on.

  Baffled, Tara sat up naked in bed and stared at him. “Why?” Her tone was laced with unconfined irritation.

  “’Cuz I told my girl I wasn’t gon’ keep doin’ this shit to her.”

  Tara laughed maniacally—like a female villain in the movies. “Nigga, please. You know you can’t stay out this pussy.”

  “I’m serious,” he said, sternly. “This was the last time. So I hope it was as good for you as it was for me.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Do it look like I’m bullshittin’?”

  Tara scoffed and shook her head. “You are so fucking unbelievable it ain’t even funny. First, you wanna start playing daddy just ‘cuz your girl makes you, now you wanna cut me off to appease this irrelevant ass bitch? This hoe is a non-fucking-factor.” It was obvious that Tara was clearly offended. “Do you pray to this bitch before you go to sleep too?”

  Magyc didn’t appreciate the sarcasm in her tone. He knew his baby mama wasn’t going to take the news well, but he needed to do right by his girl—even though it was tougher than he imagined.

  If Roxie knew he was still smashing Tara and a few other hoes on the side, she would wipe her hands clean of his ass for good. Magyc knew he was wrong for going back on his word. Roxie deserved faithfulness and a man that wasn’t going to lie to her face. Magyc should’ve been at home with his family, but as always he was dicking around in the streets. Easy pussy was the best pussy for a nigga like him. Like the fast money he’d grown accustomed to making, it had quickly become an addiction.

  “Don’t get slapped tryin’ to be fuckin’ cute,” Magyc warned her.

  Tara twisted her mouth up, unfazed by his threat. “No, I’m dead ass serious ‘cuz it seems like she controls you—”

  “Don’t no fuckin’ body control me, aight!” he snapped. Now she was really starting to get to him. Tara had a nasty habit of pushing his buttons whenever she didn’t get her way. “Chill out with all that shit.”

  “It’s the damn truth! She commands you like a fucking puppet on strings. You’re her little Marionette. Hell, if it weren’t for her making you be in Marlon’s life, you’d want nothing to do with him. That is what’s most sad,” she said. “I don’t know who has the bigger pussy! You or her!”

  “Bitch, I need you to get’cho mothafuckin’ head on straight. ‘Cuz right now you makin’ me wanna put my mothafuckin’ hands on you.”

  “You ain’t ‘bout to do shit but run yo’ ass home to that bitch,” Tara said. “I wonder how welcoming she’d be if I paid her another visit.”

  “Really? You on that petty ass shit, for real? You wanna talk about me? Bitch, I don’t know who was worse. You or Briana.”

  “Briana’s dead. She’s incapable of causing the type of destruction I will if you think you gon’ keep shitting on me. For three whole years you been giving me the runaround and I’m tired of that shit. I’m done being your doormat and fuck toy. It’s either gonna be me or her.”

  Despite the doggish, neglectful way he treated her, she loved him no matter what he did. Magyc had won her heart at an early age and she’d been smitten ever since. Tara had high hopes of them becoming the family they were always meant to be. Roxie wasn’t his baby mama and Rain wasn’t his child. She was tired of sharing her man with an illegitimate ass family.

  Magyc looked at her like she’d just sprouted a third eye. Surely, she had lost her damn mind making him choose. He wouldn’t stand for a bitch he didn’t love giving him an ultimatum.

  “You know, ya life will be a lot more peaceful when you stop demanding an explanation from who you can’t control. Mothafuckas don’t owe you shit.”

  “YOU OWE ME EVERY FUCKING THING!” she screamed. “I’m the mother of your son!”

  “That don’t mean you fuckin’ own me, yo! I’mma be with who the fuck I wanna be with! You don’t like it, don’t fuck with me then.”

  “You ain’t shit but a lil’ ass boy, Magyc. I swear I’m done opening my door for you. You are so fucking pathetic that it disgusts me!”

  Magyc looked over at her and felt the same exact sentiment. Right about now just the sight of her repulsed him. He was ashamed of himself for sticking his dick in her to begin with. She wasn’t even attractive to him anymore. Tara used to be a voluptuous 160, but she had somehow eaten her way to 230 pounds. There was once a time when she kept her weave tight and nails and feet done. However, over time she’d gotten lazy in the upkeep of her appearance.

  “I wish you’d get’cho fat ass on the treadmill and run as fast as yo’ mouth do. You so focused on what the fuck I’m doing you done let’cho damn self fall off.”

  Tara’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. No woman wanted to hear that she was gaining weight.

  “You bring yo’ ass over to my crib on that bullshit again I’mma fuck you up. Then we’ll see how well you run yo’ mouth with your jaw wired shut.”

  Magyc’s harsh threat made the hairs on the back of her neck stand.

  After pulling on his shoes he headed to the door. “I’m out. I ain’t got time for this silly ass bullshit.”

  Magyc was just about to leave the bedroom when she said something that stopped him in his tracks.

  “I’m three months pregnant.”

  ***

  Juicy groaned and stirred softly in Rico’s bed. When she looked over he was still sleeping peacefully. Rubbing the crust from her eyes, she reached over and grabbed her phone off the nightstand.

  “Damn,” she murmured.

  Juicy couldn’t believe they had slept well into the afternoon,
but a late night of fucking could easily do that to two people. Pulling the sheets off her body, she tried her best not to wake Rico.

  They had been seeing each other steadily for weeks. He made her temporarily forget about the incident in Cleveland. And though she shouldn’t have, because of his profession, Juicy slowly found herself falling for him. Everything about him intrigued her from his looks, to his authoritative swag, to his dexterity. Juicy hung onto every word he said. There was a wisdom about him that came from hanging around older niggas all his life. Rico didn’t drink, smoke, or dabble in any recreational drugs. He claimed he always wanted to maintain a sharp focus when it came to hustling.

  He was laid back, observant, and knowledgeable. He also invested his time into teaching Juicy to be the same way. Whereas she was always quick to open her mouth and react, he taught her the importance of thinking beforehand.

  Juicy grew up in the hood and had been living recklessly all her life, but Rico showed her a completely different world. He even introduced her to his Muslim culture and beliefs. Although he was a young nigga at only 28, she was growing to respect him like a father figure.

  Juicy realized that she went for the same type of men because her own dad had never been around. She was always inadvertently searching for that patriarchal figure in her life—and she finally found it in Rico.

  He treated her like a queen, never spoke to her disrespectfully, and spoiled her endlessly. His conversations had substance and aggression, and his demeanor shook the tallest of buildings. Niggas knew better than to step to him incorrectly and all the women loved and adored him.

  The only thing about Rico that bothered Juicy was his vagueness about his background and past. Anytime she tried to dig he changed the subject. There was so much mystery and secrecy to him, but his enigma was what drew her closer.

  Rico didn’t carry himself like the colorful suit-wearing, cup-toting, feather hat mothafuckas she always saw on TV. He was an entirely different caliber.

  Rico was exceptional at what he did—a self-proclaimed pro, and it showed in his luxurious way of living. Every month he dropped twelve grand to rent out a beautiful mansion tucked off Paces Ferry Rd. He drove a different foreign car everyday of the week, and he never wore the same shit twice. Not to mention, his girls were all financially stable and well-taken care of.

  Rico’s hustle was on some next level shit. He only dealt with exotic women who were in the US temporarily for work purposes. His roster of girls consisted of the baddest broads from Brazil, the Philippines, Costa Rica, Thailand, Puerto Rico, Columbia, Africa, Barbados, and the Dominic Republic. After helping them obtain their work visas—which only lasted 90 days—he flew them out and showed them how to prosper.

  Rico and his girls traveled all over the world, and they did everything from stripping to selling pussy on Backpage and Craigslist. He also owned a strip club in Old Fourth Ward, where they danced and catered to rich businessmen on the weekends. Those were the only days it was open since he moved around so much.

  Once the women made all they could, and their 90 days expired, they went back home to their countries ten times richer. Because they were immigrants, the lineup changed repeatedly, but the clientele loved the rotation of new faces. With the exception of a few favorites that lived with him, Rico was constantly bringing them in and flying them out. He’d cultivated a loyal customer base through social media. His IG alone had over a million followers with nothing but advertised toosh and tits. Rico made seven figures and up doing what he did, and he didn’t plan on retiring anytime soon.

  Juicy was just about to climb out the bed when Rico pulled her back towards him. “Nah, where you goin’?” he asked in a groggy voice.

  “Where the fuck you think I’m going? You know I be having shit to—”

  WHAP!

  Rico slapped her booty so hard he left a red handprint. “That’s what’chu ain’t gon’ do,” he said. “I done told you ‘bout talkin’ like that. You a lady. Act and speak as such.”

  He wanted to transform her. Like a work of art.

  “Rico, you know I gotta get ready for work soon,” she whined.

  “You ain’t doin’ that bullshit no mo’. I’m takin’ care of you now,” he said, nuzzling his face in the nook of her shoulder.

  All of a sudden, two beautiful females walked in the bedroom. Juicy quickly jumped up and covered her breasts with the sheets. She knew he had women who lived with him but she’d never crossed paths with them before. At first she thought they might jump stupid at her but they didn’t.

  The dark-haired Kardashian chick carried a large tray of food over to the bed. A younger girl followed close behind with fresh-squeezed orange juice.

  “Good morning, baby.”

  “Mornin’, daddy.”

  Juicy watched as both women kissed him on the lips.

  “Ya’ll made breakfast?” he smiled, eyeing the mouthwatering food.

  “Well, actually I did most of the cooking,” Kardashian beamed. “Amanda was too busy looking through Pregnancy and newborn magazines.”

  The young girl was infatuated with pregnancy and motherhood in general.

  Blueberry pancakes, skillet potatoes, scrambled eggs, hash browns with mushrooms, and fruit covered the food tray. It all looked so scrumptious.

  “Yeah, we thought we’d surprise you with breakfast in bed.” The Kardashian looked over at Juicy and smiled. “I wasn’t sure if you were hungry but we made you some too.”

  “Th—thanks,” Juicy stuttered, clearly taken off guard.

  “Oh, ya’ll, my fault. This is Diana. Diana, this is Milena…”

  He then pointed to the younger girl who looked no older than eighteen. She was faired-skinned with big eyes and rounded facial features. If Juicy had to guess she’d say she was probably Puerto-Rican.

  “And that’s Amanda,” he said.

  Milena said something to Rico in Arabic and they laughed. He was well-versed and bi-lingual, speaking Arabic, Portuguese, and Spanish fluently.

  Juicy felt odd and left out since she didn’t understand. Were they discussing her?

  Milena looked over and smiled flirtatiously at Juicy, like she wanted to get eaten instead. Their overfriendliness made her somewhat nervous and bashful.

  “This all looks so good, but I—um—I may grab something on the way to the crib—”

  “Man, get off that uppity shit and eat breakfast with me. I told you you’re done with that bullshit so I don’t know what’chu rushin’ off for. Ain’t no real money in that mothafucka no way. And if it don’t make dollars it don’t make sense. Shit has to multiply or it doesn’t fly.” He was forever throwing out catchy colloquialisms. “Besides, I gotta much better gig for you,” he said persuasively.

  24

  “Have you handled it yet?”

  Magyc was weaving through traffic on I-75 when he hit Tara up to see if she took care of their issue. He and Roxie were just getting their relationship back on track. The last thing he wanted was a baby fucking up everything they worked so hard for. Magyc made a promise to himself that he and Tara’s last time would be their final time. He was done cheating on Roxie, and fucking off. He couldn’t lose her.

  “Damn, nigga. Just skip the pleasantries, why don’t you,” she said sarcastically. She was on her lunch break at work when he hit her up with some bullshit. “My day is going swell. Thanks for asking—”

  “Cut the shit. Did you do it or not?” Magyc hounded.

  “I haven’t gotten around to scheduling the appointment.”

  “Bitch, don’t make me have to drag yo’ ass to the mothafuckin’ clinic by yo’ weave. You makin’ shit harder than it has to be. You already did what the fuck you wanted to the first time. I don’t need no mo’ gotdamn kids—especially with a bitch I don’t wanna be with! Quit fuckin’ stallin’ and make the appointment! I’m not gon’ play this fuckin’ game wit’chu again, Tara.”

  “What if I don’t want to?” she argued. “I may be welcoming the idea of a
new baby.”

  “Bitch, you must’ve forgot a baby ain’t never kept a man at home.”

  “You can’t just force somebody to have an abortion, Magyc.”

  “Well, you gon’ be raisin’ two by yo’ mothafuckin’ self. ‘Cuz I don’t want shit to do wit’cho ass. And I don’t give a fuck about child support ‘cuz bitch I got money. So you do what’chu got to ‘cuz I’mma do what I got to.”

  “I DESERVE MORE THAN THIS SHIT, MAGY—”

  Magyc hung the phone up on her ass, completely unaware that she was crying. He had no idea of the pain and grief he was causing. She loved him, and desperately wanted him in her child’s life, but it was obvious that he didn’t feel the same. Still, Tara refused to accept what he was saying. She was in clear denial, and willing to do anything to sabotage his relationship since she couldn’t have him to herself.

  Maybe I should pay his bitch another visit, Tara thought to herself. Since Magyc wanted to play dirty, she planned on beating him at his own game.

  ***

  Cameron was released 48 hours after being arrested. Heavy interrogation about the car theft ring led nowhere and they had no choice but to release her from custody. Unfortunately, Jude was held under further interrogation and suspicion. Cameron’s worst fear had come to fruition.

  After calling up an Uber, she reached out to Roxie who was temporarily watching the kids. Cameron was grateful that she willingly stepped up to take care of them so that they didn’t end up in the system like her. Cam had been bounced around foster homes all throughout childhood, and she didn’t want that for her children.

  Neither Cameron or Jude had many relatives, but Roxie was definitely the closest thing to a sister. Because of that, Child Protective Services made an exception.

  Roxie answered on the third ring. “Thank God you’re finally free.”

  Cameron smiled warmly. “Aww. You missed me?”

  “Yeah, but I miss sleeping peacefully even more. Why didn’t you tell me Journee cries all damn night? I’m surprised she ain’t got a damn hernia yet. And Lord, Justin’s so clumsy he could trip over a damn cordless phone. You need to get these chirren checked is what I’m saying.”

 

‹ Prev